Once later, I was called out for fatigue duty. I said, "Corporal, what
is to be done?" He answered, "To cut wood for the blacksmith shop." I
replied, "You had better get someone else who knows how, I never cut a
stick in my life," he said, "You are not too old to learn how." This was
conclusive, so he furnished me with an axe, and we marched into the
woods, and he said he would be back directly with a wagon to get the
wood and he left me. I was looking about me to find a tree, not too
large, one that I thought I could manage. I spied a sugar maple about
eight inches in diameter. I sent my axe into it, but did not take my cut
large enough to reach the center, when it came down to a feather edge
and I did not have judgment enough to know how to enlarge my cut by
cutting from above, so I started a new cut from the right, another from
the left, bringing the center to a pivot of about three inches in
diameter, as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar; finally, by continuous
hacking, I brought it to a point where I could push it back and forth.
The momentum finally broke the center, but in place of falling, the top
lodged in a neighboring tree, and I could not dislodge it. I worked
hard, the perspiration ran down my face, my hands were lacerated, I
finally got mad, and sent the axe a-glimmering, and it slid under the
snow. After awhile my corporal came for the wood; "Where is the wood?" I
showed him the tree; "Is that all you have done?" I could not restrain
any longer, I said, "Confound you, I told you I did not know anything
about cutting wood." "Where is the axe?" We looked everywhere but could
not find it; it must have slid under the snow and left no trace, so he
arrested me and conducted me before Colonel Edward Johnson, a West
Pointer, in command of the post. He was at his desk writing; turning to
face us, he addressed himself to me, who stood there, cap in hand, while
the Corporal stood there with his kept on his head. "What can I do for
you?" I said, looking at the Corporal. "He has me under arrest and
brought me here." Looking at the corporal the Colonel said, "Pull off
your hat, sir, when you enter officers' quarters." (I would not have
taken a dollar for that). The Corporal pulled off his cap. "What have
you arrested him for?" The Corporal answered that I was regularly
detailed to cut wood for the blacksmith shop, and that I failed to do my
duty, and lost the axe he furnished me. "Why did you not cut the wood?"
said the Colonel. "I tried," said I, "I told him that I had never cut
any wood and did not know how; where I came from there are no woods.
Look at my hands." They were badly blistered and lacerated. The Colonel
cursed out the Corporal as an imbecile, for not getting someone who was
used to such work. I told the Colonel how hard I had tried and what I
had done. The Colonel smiled and said, "What did you do with the axe?";
"When the tree lodged and I could not budge it, I got mad and made a
swing or two with the axe, and let her slide; it must have slid under
the snow, and we could not find it." "What have you done for a living?"
"After I quit school, I clerked in a store." "Can you write?" "Oh, yes!"
"Let me see." "My hand is too sore and hurt now." "Well, come around
tomorrow, I may get you a job here."
Next day I called at his quarters, and he put me to copying some
documents and reports, which I did to his satisfaction. I had warm
quarters and was relieved from camp duties for a little while.
This brings us to about the middle of December, and we were ordered to
Winchester. Colonel Johnson with his Regiment and a small force, was
left in charge of the Winter Quarters on the Allegheny, so I took leave
of him to join my Company.
Colonel Johnson, while a little brusk in his demeanor, was a clever,
social gentleman, and a good fighter, which he proved to be when the
enemy made a night descent on him and took him by surprise. He rallied
his men, barefooted in the snow, knee-deep, thrashed out the enemy and
held the fort; he was promoted to General and was afterwards known as
the Allegheny Johnson.
My Command having preceded me, I went to Staunton, where I met J. T.
Youngblood, Robert Parnelle and others from my Company. I also met
Lieutenant B. D. Evans of my Company, just returned from a visit from
home. We took the stage coach from Stanton to Winchester through Kanawah
Valley. We passed Woodstock, Strasburg, New Market, Middletown, and
arrived at Winchester in due time. General T. J. Jackson in command, we
had a splendid camp about a mile to the left of the city. The weather
had greatly moderated and the snow was melting. The regiment had
received tents to which we built chimneys with flat rocks that were
abundant all around us. The flour barrels served as chimney stacks, and
we were comfortable; rations were also good and plentiful, but hardly
were we installed when we received orders to strike camps. The men were
greatly disappointed; we expected to be permitted to spend winter there.
We took up the line of march late in the evening, marched all night and
struck Bath early in the morning, took the enemy by surprise while they
were fixing their morning meal, which they left, and the boys regaled
themselves. The Commissary and Quartermaster also left a good supply
behind in their rapid flight, and we appropriated many provisions,
shoes, blankets and overcoats; from Bath we marched to Hancock, whipped
out a small force of the enemy, and continued our force to Romney where
we struck camps. Romney is a small town situated on the other side of
the Potomac River. General Jackson demanded the surrender of the place,
the enemy refused, so he ordered the non-combatants to leave, as he
would bombard the town. Bringing up a large cannon which we called "Long
Tom" owing to its size, he fired one round and ordered us to fall back.
All this was during Christmas week.
On our return it turned very cold and sleeted; the road became slick
and frozen, and not being prepared for the emergency, I saw mules,
horses and men take some of the hardest falls, as we retraced our steps,
the road being down grade. This short campaign was a success and
accomplished all it intended from a military standpoint, although we
lost many men from exposure; pneumonia was prevalent among many of our
men. We have now returned to Winchester. The writer himself, at that
time, thought that this campaign was at a great sacrifice of lives from
hardships and exposures, but later on, learned that it was intended as a
check to enable General Lee in handling his forces against an
overwhelming force of the enemy, and being still reinforced and whose
battle cry still was "On to Richmond." It was for this reason that
General "Stonewall" Jackson threatened Washington via Romney and the
enemy had to recall their reinforcements intended against General Lee to
protect Washington.
The men from the Southern States were not used to such rigorous climate
and many of our men had to succumb from exposure. My Company lost three
men from pneumonia, viz:--Sam and Richard Hines, two splendid soldiers,
and brothers, and Lorenzo Medlock. The writer also was incapacitated.
There were no preparations in Winchester for such contingencies, so the
churches were used as hospitals. The men were packed in the pews wrapped
in their blankets, others were lying on the nasty humid floor, for it
must be remembered that the streets in Winchester were perfect lobbies
of dirt and snow tramped over by men, horses and vehicles. While there
in that condition I had the good fortune to be noted by one of my
regiment, he was tall and of herculean form, his name was Griswold, and
while he and myself on a previous occasion had some misunderstanding and
therefore not on speaking terms, he came to me and extended his hand,
saying: "Let us be friends, we have hard times enough without adding to
it." I was too sick to talk, but extended my hand, in token of having
buried the hatchet. He asked me if he could do anything for me. I shook
my head and shut my eyes. I was very weak. When I opened them he was
gone. During the day he returned, saying: "I found a better place for
you at a private house." He wrapped me in my blanket and carried me on
his shoulders a distance of over three blocks. Mrs. Mandelbawm, the lady
of the house, had a nice comfortable room prepared for me, and Griswold
waited on me like a brother, he was a powerful man, but very overbearing
at times, but had a good heart. Mr. Mandelbawm sent their family
physician, who prescribed for me. He pronounced me very sick, he did not
know how it might terminate. It took all his efforts and my
determination to get well after three weeks struggling to accomplish
this end. My friend came to see me daily when off duty.
The regiment's term of enlistment will soon have expired, for we only
enlisted for one year. The regiment received marching order, not being
strong enough for duty. Through the recommendation of my doctor and
regimental color, I was discharged and sent home. The regiment had been
ordered to Tennessee, but owing to a wreck on the road they were
disbanded at Petersburg, Va., and the boys arrived home ten days later
than I.
In getting my transportation the Quartermaster asked me to deliver a
package to General Beaureguard as I would pass via Manassas Junction.
When I arrived I inquired for his quarters, when I was informed that he
had left for Centreville, I followed to that place, when I was told he
had left for Richmond. Arriving at Richmond I went at once to the
Executive Department in quest of him and should I fail to find him,
would leave my package there, which I did. This was on Saturday evening,
I had not a copper in money with me, but I had my pay roll; going at
once to the Treasury Department, to my utter consternation, I found it
closed. A very affable gentlemen informed me that the office was closed
until Monday morning. I said, "What am I to do, I have not a cent of
money in my pocket and no baggage," for at that time hotels had adopted
a rule that guests without baggage would have to pay in advance. I
remarked that I could not stay out in the streets, so the gentleman
pulled a $10.00 bill out of his pocket and handed it to me saying, "Will
that do you until Monday morning, 8 o'clock? When the office will be
open, everything will be all right." I thanked him very kindly. Monday I
presented my bill which was over six months in arrears. They paid it at
once in Alabama State bills, a twenty-five cent silver and two cents
coppers. I did not question the correctness of their calculation. I took
the money and went in quest of my friend who so kindly advanced me the
$10.00. I found him sitting at a desk. He was very busy. I handed him a
$10.00 bill and again thanked him for his kindness; he refused it
saying: "Never mind, you are a long ways from home and may need it." I
replied that I had enough to make out without it, I said that I
appreciated it, but didn't like to take presents from strangers; he
said, "We are no strangers, my name is Juda P. Benjamin." Mr. Benjamin
was at that time Secretary of the Treasury of the Confederate States. He
was an eminent lawyer from the State of Louisiana, he became later on
Secretary of War, and when Lee surrendered he escaped to England to
avoid the wrath of the Federal Officials who offered a premium for his
capture. He became Queen's Consul in England and his reputation became
international. No American who was stranded ever appealed to him in
vain, especially those from the South. It is said of him that he gave
away fortunes in charity.
I came back to Georgia among my friends who were proud to see me. Having
no near relations, such as father or mother, sisters or brothers to
welcome me, as had my comrades, my friends all over the County took
pride in performing that duty, and thus ended my first year's experience
as a soldier in the war between the States.