us .^1 UO^W A mt INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF THE WRITER, DURING AND SINCE THE CLOSE OF THE WAK. BY JOHN S. ROBSON ■^^ EICHMOND : W. H. WADE & CO., PRINTERS, 1876. Entered according to Act of Congresp, October 11th, 1876, by JOHN S. ROBSON, In the Office of the Libraiian of Congress, at Washington, D. O. HO^V A ONE LEGGED REBEL LIVES. OR A HISTORY OF THE B2nd Virginia Regiment. INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF THE WEITEE, DUKING AND SINCE THE CLOSE OF TLIE WAR. CONCLUDING WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL SIvETCH OF JOHN RANDOLPH BARBEE, THE DISTINGUISHED VIRGINIA SCULPTOR. BY JOHN S. EOBSON. RICHMOND : X^^^r WASH\^$ ?Cf ^' ^-^^Gp.. W. H. WADE & CO., PRINTERS, 1876. i'y ^n DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR TO THE MEMORY OP 4 WHO WAS KILLED IN THE BATTLE AT HATCHER'S RUN, |^- FEBRUARY, 1865. ' ^ f PREFACE. This book is not written because there is any apparent need of such a work, nor yet at the solicitation of friends, though their kind suggestions have influenced me, in part, but because I have an object in writing it, and that object is the money I expect to obtain from its sale. I am not selfish enough to believe it will be read, much less purchased by all, for such is not the fate of the best of books, and many good books find but few readers and fewer purchasers, nor do I hope to add much in the way of literature by my little pamphlet, yet I do not expect to fail altogether in giving something in return for what shall be paid me. In its preparation 1 have been at some expense and a good deal of trouble, but at the same time, I have received much encouragement from my fellow-countrymen who have liberally aided me out of their means to have my book pub- lished. To these generous persons I return my heartfelt thanks, and hope through their kindmess to be enabled to do some- thing for myself. I will do my own canvassing and employ no agents in its sale. Could I find employment in any way, I assure my readers I would not resort to authorship, but in these days of depression, when so many young and willing persons, sound of body and whole in limb, are out of em- ployment and can find nothing to do, my chances are hope- less indeed. For hard and laborious work, I am physically unfit and few would be willing to pay me reasonable wages IV when tliey can command the choice out of the best laborers. But I expect many will read my little book and not regret the small sum paid in its purchase. Some will read it, as they do other books, by borrowing it of those who buy, and these I anticipate will be my most severe and censorious critics, as is generally the case,* and will see in it but little merit. But such is human nature, the world over, and such the fate of better books than mine, whose merits, which I do not claim for mine, have been no proof against the unkind and gratuitous criticism of that class of readers who gain the opportunity for criticism through the gratui- tous kindness of the purchasers. This happens to new works, but we, by no means, wish to disparage the friendly inter- change of literature between friends ; we would rather en- courage it, as it is productive of great good by the diffusion of knowledge. It is not the borrowing then of which we speak, but it is the criticism, w^hich experience says is almost certain to be the severest from the borrowers, and the reason is to be found in the fact that they w^iose generosity prompts them to buy my book, will have enough of that milk of human kindness left, not to pass upon it too severely, nor censure too rigidly the book they were kind enough to buy, by way of helping a One Legged Kebel. So far as we know, this is the first effort of the kind made in this part of the State, perhaps in Virginia, and we may there- fore claim for it novelty, and also the satisfaction that we are not adding our claims to any of a similar character here- tofore made, nor distressing mj friends by following in an old track by the adding of importunate demands upon their generosity. )' I only hope, however, to be successful as an humble one of the many good and brave men, who, maimed by the war in the loss of a limb, have been thereby rendered unable to do equal battle, in the strife of the world, with the strong and more fortunate of my fellow-soldiers. True, I have been no idler, even though I am a cripple, and to within a few months, have been employed one way or another as op- portunity offered. My success has been fair at times, and then again I have lost the little saved by the misfortunes of others. I do not wish to be a burden on friends or relatives, even though the latter were able to support me, but when fortunes have been scattered and the rich ruined by the fell hand of war, it is but fair to add that my relatives suffered too, and hence are unable to give me that aid or advance my business interests in any sphere for which 1 am fitted. Hence, I have resolved to sell my book in the hope thereby to be able to obtain an amount sufficient to set me np in some business by which I may make my own living. This ^s what I ask, and this I honestly hope to reach through the generosity of the many who will be willing to pay such a price for my book as will leave me a fair per centage on its cost. My book pretends to nothing save the merit of its being written in the hope of doing no harm if it does no good. It is not methodical in its arrangement nor connected in its divisions, being mainly composed of thoughts and sketches, and a little of history. I think I may now w^ith safety and propriety say of my little book, that the buyer will not altogether have lost his money. I only wish it were a better one and more entertaining as well as interesting, and of a higher literary degree of merit. I now submit VI what has been written to a kind and generous public, with no greater solicitude than that which is felt by one who desires his work may meet with a favorable reception and so much of popular favor as may result in the reasonable pecuniary return for the purpose in view. In conclusion, as the quacks say of their nostrum, if it does no good, it can't possibly do much harm, as the dose is too liomoea- pathic in quantity, and this a good deal more than can truly be said of many of our publications which are [both paid for and read. . JOHK S. ROBSON. H0¥ A Om LEGGED REBEL LIVES. CHAPTER I. 1 have long contemplated giving to the public, in a book, my experience as a Southern soldier in the late war, and the kind and manner of my life since. At its close, in addi- tion to the penniless condition of the majority of them, I found myself even worse off than tlie most of those who, without employment, were unfitted, from their long stay in camp and in the field, for a while at least, to resume the quiet and laborious pursuits of life. Whilst they had escaped the fearful ordeal and returned to their homes in the enjoy- ment of health, and sound in body, I was one of that large and unfortunate class who in the place of a once good leg, had that useful member replaced by a bogus representative, and a very bad one too; made out of good sound oak, and which by some, is quaintly denominated a " timber toe." Like that celebrated hero of whom the poet speaks, my fix is represented in the lines : Ben Battle was a soldier brave, And used to wars alarms ; But a cannon-ball took off his leg, So, he laid down his arms. If then to those who escaped this or other mutilations of body, the return of peace offered no easy road to life and its enjoyments, what was it to those who left a limb on some one of the many hard-fought fields of battle, or per- 2 haps two ; or, escaping this, had lost health in the prolonged struggle, and, helpless to take care of themselves, returned to be but a care to family or friends ? Great as are the enormities of war, whilst opposing forces are marching and contending, and meeting but to renew the last fight and offer another bloody ovation to the insatiate Mars, or to strew a fresh earth w^ith the sacrificed and mangled bodies of their fellow-men, these great as they are, are but the first that attend upon the meeting of forces following them; but still the direct issue and result, are the homes destroyed, the families dismembered, the bankrupt citizen and State ; a demoralized and demoralizing society, and the entire social organism infected with new and untried disease. Then, too, there are those whom the sword spared only to be consigned to a less speedy but equally certain death, at the hands of those diseases which walk in the wake of armies and strike down the victims in rank and file, long after the grounding of arms and peace has returned to bless the land. They fall no less the victims of war, than they who, struck down in the din of the strife, breathe out their last, with arms in hand, in sight of the foe, who sent the death dealing lead. But theirs is even a worse lot, who having fought well and bravely, unstruck by the darts they did not fear and the foe before whom they never quailed, are reserved for future victims to fell disease, the seeds of which were sown even in the manly and heroic discharge of those duties for which a soldier is called by a threatened country. Their lodgment he could not displace by the exhibition of that patriotic courage and heroic bravery which brings victory to the standard, and against which opposing forces cannot withstand. These do not die on the field of battle, but on that field were begun the attacks which were in the more peaceful walks of life to claim them, and to which they were to yield that life which often exposed, had escaped the attacks of their human foes, whom on many a hotly fought field they met and faced. They return to their homes to spend a few months, per- haps years, broken down and their health gone, unfitted to do battle for their own support, and often a care upon those whose time and efforts, divided between a strife for their own and the bread of the helpless soldier, give but a pre- carious and doubtful supply to either ; and after a short and suffering trial at the home they so bravely defended, and with those with wdiom they stood and fought, fall a prey to the last dreaded enemy whose victory over them, aided by so sure an ally, was easily gained. Again, thousands of sturdy veterans, once proud in their manly perfection and strong in their patriotic devotion, resume their places on the arena of life, with a part of their own dear selves, a leg or an arm, and sometimes both, buried in the earth they moistened with their blood and g.^ne to decay on the fields forever made memorable, in a war almost unparalleled in modern history for its length, and the remarkable endurance and energy displayed in its prosecution on the one side, and the untiring resistance under so many and great difticulties and embarrassments, so resolutely manifested on the other. Many of these educated in the pursuits of life fitted to their tastes as means of livelihood, now no longer able to resume their for- mer avocations, for one leg or one arm cannot do the duty of two, and incapacitated by the loss, obliged to change their trades and go through the severe ordeal of a second appren- ticeship, frequently at none or nominal wages, and alwaj^s at unremunerative prices, for a period till skill and education in their new pursuit placed them at a fair advantage with others similarly employed, if perchance, their loss was of such a character as not to operate against their advance- ment and skill. Added to this, and by no means the least of the disadvantages these maimed soldiers and members of a selfish and bustling world labored under, was tlie fact that in their loss, taste and inclination, those almost certain allies to successers, could not be consulted in the choice, but no longer the arbitus of their own fortunes, a maxim w^hich if good at all, can only be so in the case of a perfect body, a Sana mens in sano corpore, the choice, if choice it could be called, when but a certain few out of the many avenues to a living were open to them, they must take that which they were fitted for under their changed and narrowed con- dition. Physical deformity barred them from pursuing what inclination might suggest, and unlike their more for- tunate companions, they must seek what they could do and not that they would like to do. This is the position of the maimed soldiers ; and an unfortunate one, indeed, for one of the lords of creation ; for, in an sesthetical point of view, a man with one of his legs or an arm in the grave before its fellow, is as much one of the veriest lords of creation, as he who, equally bound by the ties of birth and kindred as well as through a national love of countr}^ to help fight the battles of Fatherland in company with those of his county and State, prefers rather to stay at home and refuse to go to the front, and now when all is again quiet and the cry of war is no longer heard in the land, perambulates the earth he did nothing to save, perfect in limb and filled with all the due consequences of one of the lords of creation. More than this, the legless and the armless hero is as good a lord as the truest and noblest one, who right honorably and well deserves that distinguished honor, be he king, potentate or person. Then, too, what if our maimed sol- dier, in addition to his own three-quarters self, had a family who looked to him for the staff of life — not that staff which, culled from some forest, and shaped into a grim representa- tive of a part of his person, imperfectly supplies his dead and forsaken member — but the staff which alone keeps soul and body together. True, this timber-toe is a right good and proper staff to him, and on it he may rely as a help by which to go forth and seek for the other ; still what is to come to this family, whilst again learning a trade or educa- ting himself in some restricted avenue, made necessary in his change of condition ? This is no fancy picture, nor one invoked for sensational purpose. Alas ! the history of the late war provides us only with too many of these real and substantial pictures of facts, and there is no occasion for us, or any who dwell on the horrors of war, to make use of any fanciful or unreal ones. 1^0 other coloring is needed, save the simple and un- adorned one of truth. Examples are only too many on both sides of the question, North and South, and facts, stubborn and unyielding facts, that show the simple truth is bad enough. History already written is full of them — that which is yet to come and that which must remain forever untold, would fill volumes that for all good purposes are best buried in the oblivion which will never see the light. But we have to do in these pages with other and brighter pictures. Our hero, if such I should call myself, and I only do so for want of a better title — our hero, or one like him, is to be found in almost every town, village and ham- let in this broad country. There are plenty of them in our own fair and beautiful county of Rappahannock, and I only claim to be a representative, however humble an one, of a large and unfortunate class. Indeed, my more than equal is to be seen, for there are those who fared even worse than myself, and instead of one, left two limbs on the bloody field. To these are left still fewer of the means for obtaining food and raiment. One favorite resort for these American Santa Annas have been the banks, counting houses and other clerical avocations ; and, hence, wooden legs and timber-toes became well known ornaments to these places; but now, since so many banks have broken and ofiices closed, new spheres must be again sought. These places were eagerly sought by this class of war's unfortu- nates, and whilst the owners occupied the chair and plied the pen, the stumps gracefully stood in some convenient corner, (more than their owners could well do without them) ready to perform their special ofiice. Again, all who had not the full complement of legs could not depend upon their arms in clerical callings, because of unfitness by edu- cation : and hence, great was the ingenuity displayed and the skill evinced in accommodating themselves to pursuits and callings often as novel as ingenious. Unfortunatelv, however, all are not so versatile in their talents nor enegetic in their natures, and the misfortunes which one would turn to good account and transfer into a blessing by this happy spirit of accommodation to change, might, in all probability, work the utter discomfiture of others less happily gifted by nature. This versatility of mind and talent, as well as of our physical functions, is one of these incomprehensible mysteries for which there- is no solution and which follow no known law. It is, therefore, no evidence of demerit on the part of a One Legged Eebel to know he has shown none of this great and happy faculty of versatility in accommodating himself to changes over which he had no control. It is all a matter of taste and gift, and both, we know recognize no law, nor do tribute to any gen- erally fixed rule. Hence, we ought not to condemn those whose misfortunes, of itself, may have paralyzed that energy so inseparable to deserved success, nor attribute to neglect what may be due to the force of unavoidable, at least, una- Yoided circumstances. Some will grow rich on the most sterile and rocky land, whilst others will become poor on the best and finest of farms. Should we attempt this unkind rule of judging those who are possessed of so much less tact than ourselves, we would fall into error, for how manv there are whose lives have fallen in pleasant places, and whose broad acres and heavy purses, not the work and result of their own labor, who robbed of this wealth by some such luck as a soldier loses his leg, would fall back stricken of spirit and unnerved, and utterly unable to join thatlarcje armv who do dailv battle for bread and raiment? All minds are not alike, and what would paralyze one would only be an incentive for redoubled action with another, taste and tact are two great moral levers — their absence constitutes no demerit. CHAPTEE II. When the war of 1S61 beo-an, I had left the villao^e of Woodville, in the county of Rappahaunockj where I had spent many a happy day in tlie society of the good people of that charming county, and was pursuing my studies as a student at the Academy at Mossy Creek, in the county of Augusta, one of the best and finest of that noble stretch of fertile land, known far and near as the Valley of Virginia. Here too^ether with a larg-e number of students under the guidance of Prof. Thomas White, aided by a corps of eflicient teachers, I was just beginning to make a fair start up the ascent to Parnassus, which was shortly to be so rudely stepped, and, unhappily for me, not to be again renewed. Here, in this quiet and prosperous valley, the long anticipated news reached us that that strus^o-le which could not be checked, had actually beo-un, and armed forces were on the march for purposes of invasion into our own dear and sacred State. Fired with all the pride, of birth and enthusiasm which in- spired our youth, I left the classic shades at that momen- tous period in our history, and no longer able to pursue studies which must be neglected in a state of such general excitement and joined a company that was raising in Augusta. The tocsin of war was sounding and the busy din of prepara- tion was heard on all sides. Eager and excited groups were discussing the state of affairs, and on every hand might be seen the beginning of what was to prove a long and disastrous war. I was at that time but little over fifteen years of age, and found it absolutely impossible to pay that attention to studies so necessary to their successful prosecution. It was under the great and absorbing excitement of that time, so well re- membered, and which we cannot now recall without re- gretting the causes which led to such unfortunate conflict, that we doffed the academic robes and donning the garb of the soldier bov. started off to the wars. 8 Would that milder councils had then prevailed, and that in our future may our progress never again be staid and our prospects blighted by another resort of kings to the arbitra- ment of the sword — a decision of differences at once selfish and incomplete. Principles, like truth, are not always on the prevailing side or in the ranks of the heavier artillery, yet they are none the less eternal in that they did not pre- vail. It is one of the inscrutable mysteries we cannot fathom, for it is indeed rare to see either men, armies or nations, who in their differences of opinion, whether the same lead to actual strife and conflict or not, "^vho do not invariably claim that the principles for which they contend and the truths they strive to maintain are the true principles and principal truths, and controversy and conflict seldom do more than to widen the distance between the parties. It is the same with our social and political economists. Statesmen wlio differ and honestly contend for measures of government, though they become leaders of party and strengthen by numbers its ad- herents, do not, because they do lead and are followed, estab- lish by numbers either the principle or truth of what they represent — and the success of party merely does establish the weight and power there is and necessarily must be in the preponderance of numbers and of majorities. Since, then, the weight of numbers can carry a good as well as a bad measure, so can the overpow^ering numbers in rank and file, aided by equal skill and science, wdiich for the sake of comparison should be the same, break down and put to flight an inferior enemy. Yet having done so, no argu- ment proving the conquerer alone was right in that for which he contended, and the conquered wrong, can be educed. So far from this, the contrary may be the truth, though it did not then prevail, nor can right prevail over might, all things else being equal, save as an exception w^rought through Divine interposition. But these are questions of ethics which belong to philosophers ; they are impalpa- ble and impractical. Once angered and determined, people 9 resolve to try the hazard of inferior against superior num- bers: On the 16th of June, 1861, being very young and inexperienced, I connected myself with Company D of the 62nd Virginia Regiment, at that time commanded by that great and eminent Virginian, Col. John B. Baldwin of Staunton. He was a noble man, a heroic soldier and a patri- otic and learned lover of his country, and, at the breaking out of the war, at the head of the Staunton Bar, tlien and now celebrated for its array of talent and eloquence. But it was alike impossible to keep the lawyer in his office, the student at his books, and the artist and mechanic at his work. All the youth of the State with rare excep- tions and without distinction of caste or position, eagerly hastened to the arm}^ that was then being rapidly augmented from all parts of the South, operations clearly indicating that the principal seat of operations would be confined to the Northern portions of the Old Dominion. When it was certainly known war w^as inevitable, the great majority of Virginians who felt the progress of events could not longer be stayed, and whose efforts had been made for the preserva tion of the Union and for peace, now yielded to what must be, and loving their State with that ardor that has made it the mother of States and of Statesmen, joined in the struggle when neutrality meant disaffection. When the ordinance was finally passed, after so long deliberation, the State was no longer a divided one in sentiment and feeling, but pre sented almost an entire unanimity on the great and moment- ous question of that memorable period. All was enthusiasm and excitement, and young and old hurried with eager unanimity to join the forces already in the field, and the exceptions were so few that in some coun- ties not a single vote was cast to break the general unity of sentiment. The point of rendezvous was the town of Har- per's Ferry, in the county of Jefferson, on the Southern bank of the Potomac, then in the State of Virginia but now the richest and finest in the youngest of the many States given out of the broad domains of the Old Dominion to 10 the general government for its good ; now, in "West Vir- ginia, the last State, not given bj the mother of States, but torn from her during the labors of a terribly suffering ordeal. Mj parents lived then as they now do, in the good old county of Rappahannock, one of the long belt of counties binding upon the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge Moun- tains, a chain that extends some seven States, from the coal and iron fields of the Key Stone State far down to the cotton plantations of Georgia, connecting two distant coun- tries so different in climate, products and the habits and customs of their people. These mountains form the back ground of a beautiful countiy, whose inhabitants are known for their thorough Virginia character, their prodigal hospi- tality and the beautv, o^race and loveliness of her women. Here and there, as these high mountains wind their vast length along, may be seen some high and towering peak which lifts its green top far above the general line, and stands like some gigantic sentinel among the clouds of heaven. We know nothing of the beauties of European scenery, but here in the county of Ila]_")pahannock the lover of nature may gaze on scenes and beauties which might well satisfy him, and no trip to other countries could prob- ably offer grander and more imposing ones than can be found in the mountains and valleys of the State. A visit to Mary's Rock, which, like all other noted places, has its his- tory and its legend, will well repay the pains and fatigue of a trip to its high and towering top, one of the highest perhaps along the whole line of the Blue Ridge in the State. Here the eye can see for manv miles a vast stretch of country that lies far below, dotted by the houses of the thrifty and generous people of Rappahannock. This county is one of the best irrigated in the State. There can scarcelv be found a farm throuo^h which some branch does not pass, and in almost every field may be found a spring of the best of water. Its people were then a happy, industrious and prosperous one, fond of their county and devoted in their allegiance to the State, of 11 wMch they were jastlv proud. No county made a quicker or readier response to the call of the State than did the hardy sons of Rappahannock, and none withstood the trials and changes of that period with a greater strength, firm- ness, and patient sacrifice than did her sons and daughters. They cheerfully gave of their substance, they contributed a full share of soldiers, and her daughters, with a grand and sublime self-sacrificing spirit, aided and encouraged by their devotion and beautiful ministrations, a cause that could never have lived throus^h so lono^ a time of adverse surroundings as it did, without the sublime fortitude and Spartan courage of the fair and peerless daughters of the Sunny South. All honor and praise to them ; they are doubly honored in the duties done, the sacrifices made and the heroism displayed in a time that so sorely tried the souls of men ; and the brightest page in all that eventful historv is the one udou which will be recorded the deeds and sacrifices, the suffering and ministrations of the good and s^entle dauo^hters of this our o^lorious Old Common- wealth. Happy the State, thrice happy the land, which is blessed by the o^entle and holv infiuences of such women as they of the sunny clime of the South proved themselves to be throughout the trying times of our late war. The part they bore and the influence exercised by them was at no time abated, and in many a dark and sfloomv hour when all was shaded by deep gloom, their holy fortitude rose supe- rior to the hour, and men once more threw off the depres- sion that had almost possessed them, when they saw the pure and glorious stand taken by the women of the South, and again they went forth, newly nerved for other and heavier trials. From the bes^inninoj to the sad endinor thev were the ablest and truest allies to the men in the field. Their influences aided in filling depleted ranks, and 2:ave renewed ardor and endurance to the sufferino^ soldier. Xo sacrifice so great they did not cheerfully endure, no trials of their strength so heavy they did not willingly undergo, and whether in the hour of defeat or of victory, 12 they were tlie same true, grand and sacrificing spirits. They gave up their husbands, their fathers, their sons, and their brothers with a heartfelt prayer for their safety and suc- cess ; and in the same spirit dispensed with the luxuries so usual with them, and ever ready to yield their jewels to the coffers that good might come to the cause they so dearly loved. History will be searched, but searched in vain, for their equals are not to be found ; and though the glory that surrounds the Spartans, wlio gave their tresses for bow strings to their husbands and sons, has come down to us from the past as the grandest that liad ever surrounded the deeds of woman, yet, it was reserved to the daugliters of the South to furnish the greater, and truer, and purer exempli- fication of woman's self-devotion to principles in the war that ended upon tlie fatal fields of historic Appomattox. All honor to the men who did so well, but none the less to the women who aided them by the holy power of their strong infiuence. CHAPTER III. Tlie county of Rappahannock, one of the Piedmont Region, was once a part of Culpeper, from which it was taken some years ago. Her sons, reared in the true style of Old Virginia families, in a genial and exhilirating climate, and used from youth to the sports of the chase, the exciting lists of the tournament and other manly and out- door amusements peculiar to Virginia and other of the Southern States, were admirably fitted by birth and educa- tion for the duties of the soldier, and a finer looking and nobler set of men than they who hailed from the county of Rappahannock were not to be seen in the armies of the South. They are tall, finely formed and sturdy ; generous in their impulses, of strong and native afiinities and attach- ments, and great pride of home and of State. Their devotion, endurance and courage, w^ere of the best and surpassed by none, and in beautiful harmony with the- 13 promptness and rapidity with which they rallied to the call of the State. Many a hard fought field attests their pres- ence and their valor and on which they now rest in the sleep of death. Wherever work was to be done there these men were to be found, and the county may well recall with pride and satisfaction the fact that where all did so well none did better than the hardy sons of the old mountain county. The Rappahannock cavalry under the different commands of Grimsley, Willis, Swindler, Green, Duncan, Fristoe, Browning, Anderson, Eastham, Brownell, as their captains or officers in charge — the different companies of infantry under Massie, Popham, Walden, Moffet, Eastham, Williams, Spicer, Dudley, Hill, Vanderslice, Gibson, Swind- ler and others, at different periods, with the members com- posing them of equal courage and patriotism and endur- ance, were at their posts and their duties throughout the whole war. The many armless sleeves and dangling legs of panta- loons, speak a tribute that needs no words to attest that Eappahannock was duly represented where missiles of death were dealing out loss and destruction. These armless and legless susvivors are to be seen in every village and locality of this county — with parts of their bodies gone to join the earth — gone as heralds and forerunners to that bourne as yet undiscovered by living man, and to which the remainder of their bodies are hastening. These are living and moving testimonials, the ever present reminders of days when men stood the brunt and faced the shock of the crash of arms where none but men would stand and none but men would face the foe. These are the proof which require no attesta- tion, and yet, the same dauntless spirit that inspired these men to meet their loss was equally shared by those who escaped. They all were just such men as could win battles where battles were to be won. The long-roll of the dead and missing who gave their lives to the cause and sealed their devotion with their blood, has many a noble name among its lists whose memo- 14 ries will es^er be dear to the State and never be forgotten by the people of Rappahannock, and who, though they monrn the loss of sons, kindred and friends, are yet thank- ful in their sad bereavement that they died the deaths of true soldiers and sleep in honored and unforgotten graves. That list comprises names that still survive in living repre- sentatives, and as long as patriotism demands respect and courage admiration, in many a vacant family in this coun- ty will be reared bright altars of fond and grateful remem- brance that will outlive the lapse of time, and be crowned with the garlands of true affection and enduring love. In a war eminently distinguished for the individual prowess, gallantry and enterprise of its soldiers, it is matter of no little satisfaction to know that the boys from Rappahannock gave as good a record of their career as any others. In fact, there is but little, if any distinction, to be seen in the conduct of the soldiers from Virginia, and where all did so nobly and well, it is with none other aim to speak of any particular part of them save in that spirit so natural, which like charity begins at home, and as the people of Rappa- hannock are dear to me, because I am one of them and among them I was born and among them lived ; still their praise is the praise of the State, and the praise of Virginia is that of all the South Many a deed of individual daring and of enterprise is even yet told of the boys from this good old county, which for cool and courageous execution will bear no unequal comparison with those of the Swamp Foxes, with the chival- rous Marion at their head in the days of '76. The old State was well represented in the late war, even as she has always been in all the great and trying events in the history of our country, save only with single and marring exception, that of the undutiful separation from her of that former portion, which now rejoices in the name of West Virginia, as a separate State in the glorious constellation of States. Strange it is that the same spirit that led to so rash and selfish an end, did not likewise suggest the propriety of 15 choosing a new name to the total exchision of the old ; that in her divorcement the name of Virginia should still be preserved in the assumption of new and divorcement of old ties. The one redeeming trait in this sundering of the remnant of the once broad and extensive domains of the Old Dominion, was perhaps the remembrance of the name which had become so doubly dear, that even in the hour of forcible and self-executed separation, the name, the proud and glorious name of Yiiginia was retained, whereby the last and only unnatural one of her many oifspring should be known and called. Virginia has undergone many pro- cesses of decrease, whereby she gave to the good of the country thousands of square miles of splendid territory, and yet it was reserved for the last cutting away of her acres to be the unkindest cut of all. It was literally a forced confiscation without even the usual right of redemp- tion — a right accorded by natural and general law, yet in this one case denied — as usurped acquisitions, like necessity know nor recognize any law. It is, however, consoling to know that with this last we have parted with all the land that the most exacting caprice of government could exact from us ; and that what is left, after all have been so boun- tifully helped, is scarcely worth the dividing; and yet, amid all her gifts and the stolen part of her fertile soil, the still proud and generous dispenser of it all — the mother of States and Statesmen — that which remains to her, amid the parting of so much, still bears the old and honored name, and with the name may well be proudly glad to witness the success and prosperity of her numerous and distin- guished progeny ; a success which though now denied to her, she yet views in them as a fond and loving parent and jealous mother. And, yet, we must not forget that great oonsideration and honor are due those brave and true men, those loyal sons of the mother State and worthy sons of the Old Dominion, who left their homes, no longer willing witnesses of, nor partakers in the deed that had been done, and stood squarely and fairly in the ranks of their kindred. 16 rejecting tlie overtures of the Pierpont government, and cut off from all the conveniences of home and its comforts, re- mained throughout the toil and heat of the day, even unto the end of it. They, like the noble spirits from Maryland, were subjected to the additional discomforts of not being able to pay even periodical visits to their own firesides, and frequently prevented, for long periods, of sending words of greeting to or receiving intelligence from those of their households. And yet under these manifest discomforts, not shared in by the men from other Southern States, save at short times, these refugees were soldiers of sound and staunch principles and of indomitable spirit and heroism. And here we recall an oft remarked and well remembered fact, which owes its strano'cness to what mio-ht well be termed an aro^ument against the old accepted truism, that the best soldiers are they who have been trained to hard, out-door work, and that the sons of farmers and others used to daily toil under the heat and cold of the year, are better suited for the rigors of camp than they who were reared in the stores, counting-rooms and other in-door pursuits. That our farmers, mechanics and laborers made good, in fact, the best of soldiers, we know, and gladly testify to their efticiency in all that goes to make up the grand total of a patriot and warrior, and yet, that the other class, less labor- iously experienced, made any the less as good, we cannot admit, much as it is opposed to reasonable supposition ; for a little reflection upon the part of those whose attention may not have been drawn to the matter, and a hurried retrospect of their camp observations, will verify the truth of the proposition that some of the most delicately raised youths, the extent of whose out-door life had been contined to an occasional ramble in quest of game in the neighbor- ing fields, and whose smooth white hands knew no rougher experience than the driving of the quill or turning of the ledger, met the privations, faced the hardships and endured the life of the soldier with quite as much S23irit and stamina as any other class of persons. 17 The difference in life did not make such a contrast on the field as might naturally be looked for ; and a few- months of the rough and wear of camp life, and a brush or two with the enemy, did greater work of transformation in delicate, untried form of the town youth, than could be the looked for — and at the expiration of his novitiate, his nerves, even though less stoutly braced than his country comrade, w^ere toned down to a fighting-pitch that would do equal and as severe service. This was the rule, and exceptions, though there may have been on both sides of the proposition, more due to other causes than the previous manner and character of life upon the part of those forming such exceptions. Like the old maxim upon which the lovers of the turf base their prefer- ences^ for certain racers: '"^ Blood will tell, age aint noiohere^^ so w^ith the soldier ; spirit and vim is the one great thing needful ; the presence of it makes the veteran in spite of youth and delicacy, and the want of it cannot be supplied, though all the forms, appliances and circum- stances of glorious warfare may combine to make the recruit come up to the sticking point. Indeed, such was the happy effects of the good, pure air of camp — sui rounded as it was during the earlier months of the war — with good, sound food, that it proved a sure cure, a panacea to many who had been almost invalids and entered the war suffering from the effects of some debilitating and prostrating com- plaints. These rapidly threw off influences -which had resisted the care and agencies of nursing and remedies at home, and this may be justly regarded as one of the few and extremely rare good effects, or, rather influences of the war ; and yet the same could be as well secured without making a war specially for the benefit of this class of inva- lids, by their adopting a life similar to that of w^ar, and yet without any of their other diabolical aids and contrivances for destroying life rather than renewing and preserving the same. So, then, this can scarcely be reckoned a good char- acteristic of war, and even the single effect of one relieving 18 and redeeming trait of this evil-bearing and horror -produc- ing engine for the indulging of the worst propensities and passions of men and nations is denied to it, and it must still stand, for want of any excuse or palliation to be offered or advanced by us, or any other, still the guilty thing it is, without the poor defense of one solitary plea or apology, and without the aid of one powerless pleader or apologist. CHAPTER TV. It is not our intention to follow the course and progress of the war, as we are not writing a history. The points at which we touch upon it are those suggested without refer- ence to method or system, selected here and there and omitting many altogether. To do otherwise would require time and the expenditure of care which belongs exclusively to the historian, and we particularly wish to keep clear from its special province. Too many of these, unfortu- nately for the good of the country, have already been cast industriously upon the public. Prejudiced and prejudged for the most part by the peculiar and special stand points from which written, and colored by much that was not the truth of events, rather than being an addition to the annals of the country, they only represent party feelings and parti- zan dogmas. But this has been, is now and must be in all probability. By it we are misled in our judgment and estimate of the past with which we have no other means of knowledge, save what is contained in the books handed down, and the still less accurate sketches of tradition. The duty, therefore, of a historian is especially a distinct and sacred one, stript of all that license with which caprice and irresponsibility is so apt to invest it ; and though there may be honest and honorable intentions on the part of him who undertakes this office, and even though he believes he is impartially correct, yet, with all the care and nicety of detail of an eye witness, so far as the opinions, beliefs and deductions formed, they are invariably those of the writer, 19 and not the truth in its pure, absohite form. Exceptionally correct, indeed, will be the result if there be no further innovation beyond that of opinion — usually the extension leads to the distortion of facts themselves ; and, of course then, as history, it is a misnomer. All books, more or less, are parts of history, and as such bequeathed as legacies to posterity often for purposes of concealment, only dealino- in what the author designedly details for some purpose or profession which he intends thereby to aid and advance ; hence what should be one of the most inviolate of all tlie departments of literature, instead of becoming means for the recital of truth, is basely prostituted to seltishly corrupt and base uses — merely instruments of misinformation. How many facts thus distorted, and good and worthy characters thus ruined, are the work of those who pretend to the duties and office of historians. The clear deduc- tion from this is that as history is but a reproduction and development of events and periods, its only true end is to give plain, absolute truths, unvarnished and unadorned by passion or caprice. With all the safeguards with which an honorable person will surround it, it is a blessing and a great one, and without them nothing but an evil in disguise. Terribly bad as are the details of much conducted with the late war, yet so far as the South is connected, with whose part in it we are more thoroughly intimate, they have been so partially metamorphosed and intentionally prejudged, that even before the smoke of conflict had clev- erly been cleared away, revealing the clear, unclouded skies of a returning peace, there were those who could not aw^ait the return of calmer quiet and the departure of their own passions, but dipping their pens in the yet undiied blood of the slain, undertook, of all men the least fit, to be the writers and historians of that memorable event, whilst their own feelings were strangers to the truths and aliens to the facts ^bout which they were about to write, and of which they were to be the informers of the whole world. So far has this unjust spirit been indulged, that it is a question of 2 20 no small irnjjortaiice, whether the direct effects of these nnhistorical writings have not lead to the perpetration, since the war, of that estrangement of feeling which before it, led to tlie dire calamity of civil war itself! Have they not kept alive and continually agitated what might else have died an easy and natural death — and have not the partizan speeches, editorial appeals and imprudent efforts of writers, served but to delay the happy return of good feel- ing and understanding between the different sections of our country ? There is no doubt both sides indulged in this species of history to an extent that was not to be success- fully combatted and restrained by the many conservative and patriotic men in the Korth and South, and whose efforts to stem this torrent were futile and of no avail. As lam clear of having added one single line, or of making a single speech before the war, so now I hope to steer clear, in my little book, of aiding in keeping alive the memo- ries and animosities begotten of that unhappy struggle. On the otlier hand it is my humble wish, as it sliall be my aim, by all means in my power to hurry the coming of a perfect and complete restoration of the Union, even as it was in the glorious days when this nation was the best in the world — such a consummation may well be hastened by all who love and honor their country, and, humble though 1 am in my own estimate, yet the desire for such a triumphant end is not wanting in me, however, delicient my ability, and when all act and think on this principle, the thing is already accomplished. Each one, under the great organic system recognizing the equality of all before the law, has his power of inffuence either for good or for evil, and to exert the one to its greatest extent and restrain the other as much as possible, is the great and exalted duty of an Ameri- can citizen. Especially ought he so to do when he clothes his thoughts in the perpetuating and living livery of t]j press ; for books live and do their work wherever reir of are found and thought cultivated ; and no book, but w -^d like its autlior, has its iiifluence for good or ill. 21 It is a silent, but ever working power, outliving the day and age of its birth, and carrying down to yet unborn readers the same resistless, the same undying power. This exceeds the power of spoken words, for theirs oftimes is confined to the hour and manner of their utterance, and when once removed or forgotten, loose that nervous life wliich accompanied their diction, whilst books are forever around and about us, forever changing hands and readers, and all the while makinsf new whilst seldom losins: old admirers. CHAPTER y. I joined the army a few weeks after the withdravval of the forces under command of Gen. J. E. Johnson, from Harper's Ferry, at which point they had been stationed from the ISth day of April, the day upon which the Urst forces left their homes to engage in what they then thought would prove, at the furthest, nothing worse than a forced absence from the comforts of home f.or a few months, but wliich, like all other human calculations of the unknown future, proved to be one of the longest and most gigantic wars known to history. What was thought to be a skirmish or two, crowned with a glorious achievement of victorious terms, proved to be one that for all good and human purposes, had better never have been precipitated. The beginning was all sun shine, hope and enthusiasm — the end, when it came, after its lonff comino^ — was to be in a sad and mournful contrast tj CD to the bright picture of its beginning. Harper's I^ erry had long been one of the most important of our inland towns, both because of its railroad and water facilities, its grand and majestic sceneiy as well as for 'its beino: the location of the larcrest armories for small c? Cj o,.rms"in the U. S., and with the exception of one other simi- facts^. manufactory at SpringHeld, in Mass., the only one of tlie tlie^id in the country. These two supplied om- whole equip- Junent of arms previous to the war, so far as we knov^^ The 22 armory was a large and extensive affair, comprising many buildings substantially erected along the southern bank of the Potomac and within a few rods of it; the intervening space being the site of the track of the B. & O. li. H. Co. The structure which supports this track, is a solid wall, declining to the water's edge, built of the beautiful blue limestone of that part of the State. The wall is probably forty feet high and protects the armory buildings from the overflowings of the I'iver, and which, without it, could hardly stand the tremendous power of one high freshet which the Potomac is accustomed to send through its banks during the opening weather of Spring. The history of the building of this wall is this : About the year 1832, the B. & O. R. R. Co., obtained permission from the then Secretary of War of the U. S., to place its track alono^the southern bank of the Potomac, 2;ivino^ the rio-ht of way — in other words, in consideration for the building of this huge wall by this company, the U. S., by this agreement securing their own armory buildings from rises of the river. The site of the track for a distance of nearly a mile from the Ferry, westward, is supported b}" this wall and by trus- sel work ; the road being at points but a few feet above and from the edge of the water, with high cliffs on the other side of the track. The erection of this wall affording a secure road-bed to the railroad, and protecting the armory of the U. S., was made at great expense, but is such a work as will need no repairs and will stand the wear and tear of years. All these costly works of thegovernment and their valuable machinery were destroyed on the evacution of the place in the early Summer of 1861, since when, they have been virtualli- abandoned by the U. S., so far as the resumption of v^chef is concerned, and the old site, together with the of tlj, thereon, were sold some few years since to a privateet, of pany with tlie purpose to nuike use of the splendid ^\*\^-»d power for milling and other manufacturing purposes. 23 Though the sale was made, yet no use has been made of the grounds, the only attempt made being one of a specula- tive turn, by wliich this company undertook to make tlie B. &. O. R. R. Co., pay a large bonus to them for the nse of the ground upon which their track lies for nearly a mile and in front of the old armory. This demand for money, the amount of which, we believe, approached to nearly a quarter million of dollars, was based upon the invalidity of the con- tract made in 1832, heretofore referred to between the B. &. O. R. R. Co. and the then Secretary of War of the II. S., averring the said Secretary transcended his powers in entering into any such agreement, and that they, the pur- chasers from the U. S., to whom the rights and powers in the armory had descended by purchase, by the pov,^er of the right of substitution, would proceed to collect the amount of money claimed through the Courts if not paid. Of course, the great and powerful corporation refused compliance with such a proposition to a right of way they had quietly enjoyed for more than a quarter of a century, and out of this refusal, grew a long and tedious law suit, which reached a final termination only a few months since, in the Court of Appeals of West Virginia, in the entire favor of the railroad, who, by this decision have forever quieted their easement and enjoyment of this disputed narrow track of rocks and sand, of utter uselessness to any one save for the purpose it is now used. We have referred to this as a mat- ter of interest, showing the powers of the Secretary of War in making contracts, and also as being a part of the history of the old armurv, its destruction and abandonment. Now, that this matter has been put at rest, and no further issue as to the rights of parties to this really splendid water tcOwer can arise, there is no reason why so good a property -its uld not at once be put to some useful purpose — that, for Owrtnsnce, of turning tlie swords and muskets, there manu- factst;<.red, into pruning-hooks and plough shears. It is to be the^'icld the buzz and hum of lively mac^hinery may soon be Jurjard here, as in the old days of high and busy life in the famous old town of Harper's Ferry. We were so forcibly impressed whilst passing through this old Potomac tow^n, a few weeks since, made memorable by the insane attempt of Jolm Brown, who chose it as the basis of his operations in his chimerical attempt in 1859, and again as the first rally- ing' point for Virginia and Sonthern soldiers in 1861, at the great change that has taken place in it. Perhaps no ]^lace in the State, save the hospitable old Virginia town of Fredericksburg, presents so signal ear-marks of the war as Harper's Ferry. Its grand monntain scenery, winch onr good Jefferson pi-onoiinced to be worth a trip across the Atlantic to see, is all that is left unmarked by the decay of ruin; all else, the houses, the walls, the streets would make no bad counterpart of Goldsmith's Deserted Village. And all this is due to the war, for before its blighting hand was laid upon it, it was a prosperous and thriving place, ^o improvement is to be seen to relieve the dull monotony of its general dilapidation, only blackened charred walls and timbers, buildings toppling as if fall was inevitable in spite of the props underneath to steady them. Strange to say, the reaction that has taken place in other aiid larger towns in tlie State, is not yet visible here, and you feel as though the war had not yet ceased, and this war-worn place had just been deserted by one of the two armies in dread anticipation of the coming of the other. The Maryland Heights just across the river, once the stronghold of the Union forces, and on whose southern crest there then bristled with the grim-visaged siege pieces, now presents a quiet pastoral scene, in strong relief to the town on the opposite side of the river. Here, high up among the tall peaks of the Blue Ridge, mav be seen a herd of many colored goats, quietly feeding on tlie scanty herbage, and yet so wild, there they remain unfed and uncared for by man, approached by none, and as safe, though in full sight, as if among the Alpine, fastnesses of their native peaks; there they have leinained, till from a single pair, let loose during the war, the J now number more than a hundred, presenting a pleas- ^5 Ing and picturesque sight, attractive, especially to passengers on the many passing trains far down below. Here, too, among the other remarkable natni-al curiosities to w^hich all comers, as in duty bound, wend their steps, is "Washington's Rock," high up on these heiglits, and so named from a resemblance, so called, real or fanciful, said to be seen in the rough figure of a man whicli stands out in bold relief on the granite height, to the features of the Father of his Country. Many claim the likeness is there, rougli hewn in the liaid mountain granite, a freak of the great sculptor nature, who determined that the name and fame of so good, so great, and noble a Virginian should be carved in material that should stand coeval with time itself, and thus s^ave us on our own soil, and on the mountains of his country, this counterpart of him wdiom all delight to reverence hj the endearing name of Fatlier. The 52nd Virginia, of which I was a member, was at the period of my joining, commanded by that eminently good man and distinguished law^^er, Col. Jolni B. Baldwin, of Staunton, Va., whose deservedly high reputation as a States- man and in his profession was but enhanced and made greater by his record in the field. A man of marked abili- ties and eminent genius, his rank was witli those who stood in the front of the bar in Virginia at a time when her bar had many giants in mind, and whose lips were as pure as their records brilliant. He died as he had lived, an honor to his State and to his country. My first military experience was with that little band who left the mountains of their native homes far be- hind them to the east, and went a soldiering among the wilds of strano^e and to us unknown and biof^er mountains than our own dear blue topped ones of Eastern Virginia. Far off among the peaks and crags of the Alleghanies, twin brother of the Blue Ridge, we pitched our unpretending tents, and there, amid the awful grandeaur of those silent fastnesses, we first tasted of the bitter sweets of a soldier's life. No one 26 need go to Italy to enjoy the master pieces of that great ar- tist of all, Nature, so long as he can see more than either Italv or Switzerland, can boast of amons; the mountains of the Alleo^hanies ! True, I have not had the advantai>:e of an European tour, and am merely a partial judge, but if the evidence of those who have seen both and tlie recoi'ds of those Americans Avho have made the tour, go for testi- mony, there are even other of American sceneries, save those of the mountains of Virgini^a, which may well contend for the palm with the far famed lands of Europe. " See N^aplesand then die," had passed into an aphorism, if we mis- take not, before the maker of it knew much about America, and if he did, w^e may excuse his seltislmess on the i^round of natural love and affection. Sure it is, there is quite enough to satisfy even the exquisite taste of a true lover of nature in the sublime pictures of this western half of the globe, even if we of that part of it known as the United States — who not vainl}^ boast the best government under the sun — cannot agree among ourselves as to which part of it has the finest natural scenery. Whilst the land of the Hudson lays claim to precedence, a Catskill pleads no less her own ; and so, from every part of our fair domains comes tlie same note of pleas entered for the same prize ; and surely among so many distinguished rivals for the honor of ha vino; the finest and o^randest shifts of nature and of her God, there is enough in our own fair and beautiful land to satisfy the seeker after these grandly sublime feasts of the eye, to save him the unpatriotic under- taking of looking them np under foreign skies. Then, too, you know my good reader, it has been promised by some wise looker-on and observer among the peculiai'ities of peo- ples and nations, and one too that observed for a purpose, that all Americans who so greatly desire a trip to Europe, that if they live good lives here, they will go to Paris when they die, or as this same quaint observer puts it : "All good Americans go to Paris when they die." But enough of this. Our camp duties were not severe, nor our fighting of much 27 of a number one kind, whilst out in the land of bii? moun- tains and l)ig cattle, thougli we did have several Dumber one scares of the first water; all of which we learned soon after- wards to regard as very little indeed, and not a fair patcliing to wliat we soon experienced wliilst playing foot cavalry in the Vallev, under the o^reat Jackson. Still it was a s^ood drill- ing, a novitiate through which recruits pass before they can lay claim to the title of old soldiers. Nothino; of any interest occurred till we had to leave those western wilds at the instance of our quondam enemy (reneral Milroy, who took it into his head that we Johnnie Rebs had about enouo-h of the fine sights and sceneries of that romantically^ disputed region, and fearing if we tarried longer there, there wouldn't be plenty enough upon which the admiring gaze of his own men might feast, (we have learned since he had some Swiss and other European fellows with him who liad come all the way over to see sights, and couldn't get close enough to see good whilst we were tliere,) gave us some premonitory admonitions that the time had come when the places that then knew us, must know us no longer. Understanding the wishes of his Generalship, who possibly may have had some oil interest there to look after, to mean we must "git up and git," we accordingly obeyed instructions, as all good soldiers should do, (though I don't know whether we would have done so under other circumstances, just to please General Milroy,) we accordingly did get out, and that was the last of our Alleghany experience as a soldier, bad luck to the same. But we made the acquaintance of one, wlien we reached West View, a few miles west of Staunton, General Milroy still admonishing us to "git up and git," and had kept at our heels all tlie way — one of whom report had said many cheerinu^thino^s and whose strono^ aid and heavy hand we knew could help us to a day of rest from the foe who had so unre- lentingly followed us. That man was the great, the immor- tal Jackson. He had come to call a halt for us, and right well did he and his men do it. Neyer shall I forget the change a 28 few hours of his presence among our little band of worn out and fatio^ued soldiers from the Alleo^hanies, wrouo^ht amono: us. We felt the inspiration of safety and deliverance from his presence, and instead of a retreating army at the com- mand of a Mib'oy, we faced about in a few hours, to go over the back- track, but this time as the pursuers, not as the pur- sued. The whole change seemed to be the work of magic ; and how our late pursuers could have known the difference m our situation, I cannot tell, but certain it was, they at once began to change their own movement, and off Jackson started in the pursuit of Milroy, with his little army — part of which he had brought with him. The march was a terri- bl}^ severe one, as much as 37 miles being passed over in a dav, and that too, over a rouo-h road leadins: over raoun- tains and across the narrow valleys lying between them. The result of this move was the battle of McDowell, fouglit on the evening of the 9th of May, 1S62, and which lasted far into the nio-ht. The battle was fouo^ht on a small mountain and in among the many spurs of that hilly country, plentifully watered by rivulets and streams, afford- ing fine grass and pasturage for the cattle so numerous in that countiy. Our men slept that night wdiere they fought, ii>:norant the enemv had taken advantao;:e of the earliest darkness to send on their trains, which their army followed sometime during the night, and so the first gray light of the early morn revealed the fact that w^e were entirely the con- querers in that mountain fight, and Milroy was hurrying on to get to a place of safety in reaching distance of the B. & O. R. R., whei"e re-inforcements could readily be sent to his aid. A running fire was kept up on the part of our cavalry, who followed them, till the army reached Franklin. Here the pursuit w^as abandoned, and Jackson's object had been satisfactorily accomplished, that of preventing the junction of the force we routed at McDowell, with Banks who was on his way up the Valley. After resting all day Sunday we began the return march towards Staunton, leaving that place some miles to our right and gained the Valley Pike by way of 29 tlie Alum Spriugs. At Xewmarket we crossed over to tlie Page Valley, and then began the run after Mr. Banks, wliich ended in running hini completely out of the State with almost the total loss of his wao-ons and army stores, all of which fell into our hands, and constituted a rich and hand- some prize, and oiie which was much needed by our army. These immense stores with 300 wa^rons were safelv taken to Staunton, and from the complete capture made, Gen. Banks was quaintly denominated commissary to General Jackson, by which title he was celebrated in patriotic verse by some rhyme-making Confederate, which was heartily'sungby the bo}S in gray, all joining in a rousing chorus to celebi'ate the kindness of Mr. Banks in handino^ over to them so manv nice things to whose use they were beginning to be strangei'S And, here, we remark the quick versatility and fitness by which some one in the ranks was alwavs sure to turn every unusual incident and occurrence to good account for the amusement and passing enjoyment of his comrades. No matter how tired, fatigued and hungry, the very appearance of anything out of which a funny remark, or running jest could be made, tliere was always some one equal to the occasion, and the hearty, joyous laugh, fallowed by the repeated joke as it passed down along the line for the bene- iit of all. awoke a pleasing relief from the contemplation of more serious matters. In this irresistible spirit of fun, that particularly distinguished the Southern soldier, some most excellent jokes vrere muanufactured, lit and apt for the times and scenes of their perpetration, but which lose much of their charm in the transfer to times of peace. The sol- dier would have his moments of relaxation and fun, and this at the expense of all without raspect to persons,' caste or position, and unfortunately lixed the luckless wight or elegantly adorned man at home when his presence among the troops gave the signal for the fun to begin. And begin it did just as soon as some one of these joke manufacturers could take in the requirements and necessities 30 of the occasion, and fix upon the most viilnei'able point of attack about his victim. In anticipation of wliat was surely to come, all prepared themselves as the singing master did his whistling class, by the order to pucker lips, for a good gene- ral launch, sriven with all the utter disrei^ard to rule and system which distinguished their no less hearty and equally as boisterous shouts in the hours of victory. ■ The Southern soldier did nothing by halves nor without vim and spirit ; and the volumes of mirth and frolic that rolled up from the long line of march was more than enough to keep it still moving as its boisterous sounds were taken up in redoubled repetition ; and the funny spectacle presented of thousands of men laughing at one end of the line, the joke of which began at the other a mile or more off, and the merits of which tb.ey were completely ignorant of, and would not know till it reached them down the line, handed from one to another by a slow yet certain communication. All laughed because they knew something good had happened, and as lauy bullet marks; and he now lives to this dav to tell over tlie stories of his score or' more of wounds. His brother, in the same comoany, and equallv as good a soldier, went safely through the same battles and with but a single exception, received but one wound during the entire war. w^ome soldiers seemed to bear charmed lives, whilst others were bright, particular objects of special favoritism when the wounds came to be served out. We have all heaidof the soldier who safely esconced, by the liigh works, behind which he was tighting, and who being asked why he kept waiving liis left arm over the works where the balls were fly- ing tiiick, vv;;en he could keep it down in perfect security; replied w^ith singular quaintness, that he " was feeling for a furloucj::li." He wanted to »o home so badlv — and there was so little chance of his getting off — that he was actually trying his ver}^ best to get strucdv in the arm or hand, knowing the probability of such a wound not to be serious, and choosing rather to ir^e^t such an one as would insure him a furlough, wlnlst healing, than by keeping his arm down, where it ought to have been, close up securely all chance of getting off to home. Furlough wounds, during the latter part of the war, when no furloughs were issued, were looked upon as real blessings by the happy possessors, who knew that they would secure them leaves of absence wdien nothing else would. So, that the wearied Confederate who pined to see once more, the dear, familiar faces away in the distant jjome, rash though he was, and mad too, for that matter, in seeking a wound by the intentional exposure of his arm, was vet not so much so, that there was wantini>: method in his madness. Ah I no, the old soldier was too keen an ( bserver, and too apt in his adaptation of means to an end, to put himself to any unnecessary trouble or danger, unless 36 there was both a method and design, somehow or some- where, concealed under what he did. There was bnt little failh to be placed in the unselfish design of the old soldier, wlien once he had made up his mind to reach some certain end as the objective point of his efforts, and liis skillful metliod and adroit means bj which he encompassed the result, was good proof of the thorougliness of his education in the school of plot, as well as of the peculiar ability of the old soldier to receive and digest the lessons taught in tlie school of design. Tlie army is a capital school in which to learn thorough selfishness, and in such as the force of circum- stances made our's for the last years of the war, none better could well be found in which the tact and knack of providino; for one's own dear self, was put to a severe and more thorough test. This peculiar way of looking out for No. 1, especially in the line of the inner man, became so much a part and parcel of the soldier's character as to lead to the coming of a new word or term, whereby to define and distingnsh it; and there are but few who remember anything about the war, but who will readily remember the quaint meaning of fl