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Memoirs of a Veteran Who Served as a Private in the 60's in the War Between the States Personal Incidents, Experiences and Observations

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A concourse of people in the neighborhood gathered to observe this unequal artillery duel of five armoured gun boats and eleven wooden mortar boats hidden behind a point below the Fort, sending their projectiles like a shower of aerolites into and around the Fort. Undaunted, the boys stood by their guns, having the satisfaction to notice one of the armoured vessels break their line and floating down the River, evidently having been struck in some vital part, and thus placed hors de combat. This bombardment continued from early morning until near sundown, when the enemy withdrew, we giving them parting shots as they steamed down to their blockade station, lying in wait for the Nashville, a blockade runner, who plyed between Nassau, and any Confederate Port, which it might enter with goods, easily disposed of at remunerative prices. The Fort was badly dilapidated, our breastworks had been blown to atoms, the guns exposed to plain view, all port holes demolished, the barracks injured by fire, which the boys extinguished while the battle was raging; in fact, had a cyclone struck the Fort in its full majestic force, it could not have been worse. However, that night we pressed into service all the negroes on the rice plantations. Spades, shovels and pick axes were handled with alacrity; baskets, bags and barrels were filled, the enfeebled portions of the Fort were reinforced by working like Trojans all night long, and the Fort was again placed in a presentable condition.

Early the following morning, when the enemy again appeared, undoubtedly to take possession, as the Fort would have been untenable in the condition they left it the previous evening, we opened fire on them, but they had seen what had been done during the night, saw at once that we were not disposed to give up; they withdrew without even returning our fire, and the boys would remark, they are treating us with silent contempt.

For awhile we enjoyed repose and the luxuries of the season at the Southern sea-coast, hunting squirrels, rabbits and fishing, getting leave of absence to visit home for a few days, when one day the report reached us that the enemy effected a landing at Killkanee, some distance below us and to our right. The battery was called out and we took up the line of march to meet the enemy. We camped that night near a church, when we were informed that the enemy's demonstration was against a small salt works, an enterprising citizen having erected a small furnace with a half a dozen boilers, in which he boiled sea water to obtain salt, which, at that time, was selling at a dollar a pound by the hundred pound sack. The Company returned to camp.

About ten days later word came late one afternoon that the enemy is making for Pocotalico, a small station on the Savannah and Charleston Railroad, intending to burn a long range of trestle on said road. Two detachments were sent to that place by post haste, arriving in time to place themselves in position, in as quiet a way as possible. At about ten o'clock P. M. we heard a very noisy demonstration to our right, through the marshes of the swamps; many torches became visible. They undoubtedly expected the place to be unprotected; when they came within full range we sent canister and schrapanel into the ranks; they fell back in confusion, leaving dead and wounded behind. This expedition started out from Beauford, S. C., then in possession of the enemy. One dark night the tide being up, the Nashville loaded with cotton attempted to run the gauntlet of the blockaders. On the turn of the river just opposite the Fort, the River Ogechee being about a mile wide, the vessel run aground on a sand bank, and was unable to extricate itself. The enemy being on the lookout, spied her position and came within firing distance; the Fort fired at them furiously, but they paid no attention to us, but concentrated their fire on the steamer Nashville with hot shots and soon had her in flames. The crew jumped overboard and swam ashore like ducks. The steamer was burned and completely destroyed. I was again taken with chills and fever and sent home by way of Dr. Whitehead's hospital. Sergeant Hines also came home to recuperate, when one morning I suggested to have an egg-nog. Cousin Abe was a merchant before the war, and still kept a store at Fenns Bridge, but the store had but few remnants in it. He only kept such goods as people were willing to dispose of in the way of exchange, for something else, and among his stock, he had a barrel of corn whiskey. I said, "Bill, if you furnish the eggs, I will furnish the sugar and whiskey; my chill will be on at eleven o'clock; we have an hour yet and kill or cure, I'm going to drink nog. It may help me." Dr. Whitehead had supplied me with a vial of Fowler's Solution, which was nearly exhausted, and which had done me no good. Sergeant Hines came up, brought a dozen eggs and we made a nog. At ten thirty A. M. I took the first goblet, he made it tolerably strong. I replenished and enjoyed the contents, and as we were sipping it quietly, I looked at my watch and was surprised to see it was fifteen minutes past eleven and no chill. We slowly finished the third glass, I felt the effects of it somewhat, but we were not intoxicated. At twelve o'clock the dinner bell rang at the house, and it was the first time in two weeks that I was able to partake of that meal, the chills always interfering. I never had another chill in twenty years thereafter, hence I never became a prohibitionist. I believe the abuse of whiskey is wrong, while its proper use is right. Sergeant Hines and myself, after a few days longer among our friends, returned to our camp.

CHAPTER XI

The following incident caused a rupture of friendship between Lieutenant Evan P. Howell and myself, which made military service unnecessarily harder on me, owing to our respective ranks. One night, it was on a Saturday, I had occasion to get up, it was late. I passed the sentinel on post number one, and recognized William Tolson on duty. I passed the usual greeting of "Hello! Bill, how do you do," "O, Ike, I'm so sick. I've one of the hardest chills on me I ever had." "Why don't you call the Corporal of the Guard, and get relief?" He replied, he wished I would call him, so I called "Corporal of the Guard, post number one." Corporal William O'Quinn came up to see what's up. I said, "Corporal, Tolson is sick and ought to be relieved." Presently the Corporal returned from headquarters, saying the officers are all gone over to Patterson, they were having a dance at the Quartermaster's, Major Cranston, and there is no one at headquarters but Dr. Stevenson who is drunk, and I can't get any sense out of him. When I told him that one of the men were sick, he said "You see that puppy, is he not the finest you have ever seen?" having reference to a small dog he fondled. Finding out that I can't get any relief, I came back, so I told Tolson to go in and I would stand guard in his place. Tolson was a good soldier, he was a native Englishman, and when he got over his chill he was loud in his denunciation as to his treatment, so he was punished for having spoken derogatory about the officers and condemned to wear ball and chain for twenty-four hours. This was the first time that I knew there was such a thing as a ball and chain in camp for the punishment of man. The following Monday night, the writer having found out all about the particulars and the doings at the Quartermaster's, wrote up a program of intoxication at Granston Hall, Saturday night, March 1863. I treated the matter more of a burlesque than otherwise, and wound up in these words: "That's the way Confederate whiskey goes, pop goes the Government." Captain Martin was off and Lieutenant Howell was in command. Lieutenants Bland and Roberson laughed over the matter and took it good naturedly. W. N. Harmon was the only man in the Company who saw me write the article, and when finished I read it to him. He pronounced it a good joke and asked me what I was going to do with it. I said, "I am going to stick it up on the big pine where general orders are posted, so that the men can read it after reveille call," so he made some lightwood pegs, and we went together and posted it. The article was not signed, and was written in a round handwriting. The men enjoyed it and laughed a great deal over it, when Sergeant Fulford came up and tore down the paper, and carried it to the officer's tent. They inquired, what is the matter, what are the men laughing about. He presented the paper. Lieutenant Howell, after reading it, got raving mad, while Lieutenants Roberson and Bland took it good naturedly. Lieutenant Howell was determined to find out the author, so during the day he took up the men by fours and swore them on the Bible, if they knew who wrote the paper. I was at the station on that day and was absent. When I returned to my mess, they told me what was going on, and that Lieutenant Howell was trying to find out who wrote that article, so I said, "Bill," meaning William Harmon, "He took up the wrong men; if he had called on me I would have saved him that trouble". He answered, "Well, what will you do?" "Well, you don't believe that I would swear to a lie?" I got up saying, "I will satisfy his curiosity," and up to his tent I went. He was sitting in a chair smoking. "Good evening Lieutenant," says I. "I understand that you are very anxious to know who wrote that paper Sergeant Fulford submitted for your inspection. I can give you all the information you require." Lieutenant Howell at once brightened up and became all smiles. "You know—who did it?" "Your humble servant." In a twinkling his countenance changed. He became pale with rage, working himself into a passion, and very peremptorily ordered me to stand at attention. I at once planted my heels together to form a perfect angle, placed my little fingers along the seams of my pantaloons, my arms extending at full length, my body erect, facing my superior officer. I humbly remarked, "Will that do?"—"What did you do it for?"—"You had your fun, am I not entitled to have some?"—"You made false charges; you said we drank Government whiskey. I want you to understand what liquor we drank we bought and paid for it." "Well, Lieutenant, I have not accused anybody; not even mentioned a single name, but if the cap fits you, you can wear it. I have nothing to retract." By that time, Howell was surely mad. "I-I-I reduce you to ranks! I put you on double duty for thirty days and to wear ball and chain." "Is that all?" "Lieutenant, I volunteered in the Confederate army to do my full duty, as I always have done, in regard to duty; you only can put me on every other day, but when it comes to degrading me by making me wear ball and chain, I give you fair notice that I will kill any man who attempts to place the same on my limbs," and I made my exit, going to my mess-mates. "Well, how did you come out?" the boys asked me. I related what had passed between Lieutenant and I. William Harmon, then said, "Did you tell him that I helped you stick it up?" I said, "No, I shouldered the whole responsibility. What good would it do to implicate you?" "Well you shall not be the only one to do double duty," and off he went to tell Lieutenant Howell that he also had a hand in it, and consequently he was also condemned to double duty for thirty days. "Did he also tell you to wear ball and chain?" Harmon said "No."

 

That night, I slept, as the saying is, with one eye open. I had my pistol within easy reach, and my sabre by my side. No attempt however, was made to chain me. The following morning I was called for guard duty. I took my post, carrying my sabre across my neck, bear fashion. My post was in full view of the officers' headquarters. When Lieutenant Howell sent Sergeant Hines to me to tell me if I didn't carry my sabre at "Carry Sabre," he would keep me on four hours instead of two. Having been the bugler of the Company I was never instructed how to carry sabre. "Sergeant, can't you teach me how?" Hines remarked, "I know you know better how to handle a sabre than anyone in camp. I have seen you and Hoffman fight at Laurel Hill. I tell you, I have been on duty all night and I would like to go to sleep. This may be fun to you, but not to me, just now." I said, "Well Bill, go ahead," so I carried my sword to suit his Excellency, the commanding officer.

Later in the day J. J. Sheppard came to me saying, "Ike, Lieutenant Howell told me that I was appointed bugler in your place." "Well, sir, I congratulate you on your promotion." "He said for me to ask you for the bugle." I said, "All right Sheppard," I took the bugle and broke it in halves and handed it to Sheppard. He looked astonished—I remarked, "That instrument is private property and belongs to me, my money paid for it, and I have a right to handle it as I please, not meaning any disrespect to you, Sheppard." The following day, word came in camp for volunteers to handle siege pieces in Charleston, S. C. The enemy making heavy demonstration against that City. The Company sent men they could spare, among whom I formed a contingent part. My detachment was placed in the battery in charge of a heavy siege gun. The people of that City treated us royally and brought us plenty of provisions besides what we got from the commissary. We remained there a couple of weeks. The whole business turned out to be a fiasco, and we returned back to our camps. It was one of the most pleasant periods I have enjoyed during the whole war. I was again called on duty when I remarked, "This comes around pretty often." The Sergeant remarked, "You have to finish your sentence." I at once went to headquarters and met Lieutenant Howell and said, "Do you intend to make me finish the penalty you imposed on me?" "To be sure, I do," was his reply. "Well, you can't do it after you accepted my services for Charleston," and I demanded a court-martial before I would finish it. Afterwards Sergeant Hines came from headquarters, saying, "Howell said, Ike got me," "I have no right to inflict a continuance of punishment after accepting his services in some other direction, but confound him, I'll get even with him." Thus matters stood, when some fine day the ball and chain was missing, no one knew what became of it, but somewhere in the middle of the Ogeechee River some two hundred yards below Camp Arnold, it may be found now, having rested there these forty six years.

On the eighth of May we were ordered to Mississippi. We went by the way of Columbus, Ga., arriving there about three o'clock P. M. The ladies had prepared a fine spread for us at the depot. The men were hungry. Capt. F. G. Wilkins being mayor of the City, Mayor Wilkins was Captain of the Columbus Guards, Company B, First Regiment, Georgia Volunteers, and on his return home, after his severe experience of one year's military service, he preferred civil service as more congenial to his feelings. He was a brave and fearless soldier. At Carricks Ford, he and twelve of his men got mixed in with the Yankees, who at that time wore also grey uniforms. They were Ohio troops. Captain Wilkins on seeing his dilemma, formed his men into line, then into column making them go through evolutions, and manual of arms, and marched them to the rear, and out of the Yankee columns without being suspicioned or receiving a scratch. Such coolness is not often exhibited on a danger line, and Captain Wilkins reached Monterey long before any of the Regiment did, and saved himself and his men a great deal of hardship.

When alighting from the train and seeing all those good things prepared for us, I at once took my position. A lady remarked, "Help yourself." I took hold of a piece of fowl, and as I was about to take a bite, someone struck me on the arm with such force that the piece of fowl dropped out of my hand, and someone said, "Those things are not for you." It was Mayor Wilkins. He was glad to see me, and said, "I have something better for you, boys. How many of the First Georgia are here? Get them all together and follow me." We were about a dozen of the old Washington Rifles. He conducted us to a room where we met a committee of gentlemen. After the usual shaking hands and introductions, we passed into another chamber. I never beheld a more bountiful and artistically prepared spread. Provisions arranged on a revolving table, shelved to a pyramid, and loaded with delicious wines. In a corner of the room was a table covered with case liquors of every description, and some fine cigars. I was astonished, I had no idea such delicacies could have been gotten in the whole Confederacy. We surely did enjoy the hospitality of that Committee. Mayor Wilkins introduced me to a Mr. Rothschild, saying, "I want you to take good care of him, he is a splendid fellow." Turning to me he said, "Hermann, I want you to stay all night with this gentleman, he will treat you all right." I said, "Captain Wilkins, I can't leave camps without a permit, and myself and Captain Howell are not on such terms as for me to ask him for any favors." "Well, I'll arrange that, you come along." Captain Wilkins said to Howell, "I want Ike to go home with my friend here," designating Mr. Rothschild. Captain Howell said, "You'll have to be here by seven o'clock, A. M. The train will leave at that time." Mr. Rothschild spoke up, saying, "I'll have him here on time." I was royally treated; the lady of the house and daughter played on the piano and sang. I joined in the chorus 'till late in the night, when I was shown to my room, nicely furnished, a nice clean feather bed and all the requisites for comfort, but I could not sleep, I did not lay comfortable. The two years service I had seen, made a feather bed rather an impediment to my repose, having become accustomed to sleep out doors on the hard ground, with my knapsack as a pillow, so I got up, put my knapsack under my head and lay by the side of the bed on the carpet, and slept like a log the balance of the night; so soundly, that I did not hear the negro boy who was sent to my room to blacken my boots, open the door, but I heard a noise like someone slamming the door and I heard someone running down stairs. I heard many voices talking, and someone coming up stairs, opening the door very unceremoniously, I looked—there was Mr. Rothschild,—greatly astonished and laughing, he could hardly talk. Finally he said, "What in the world made you lay on the floor." I explained to him that being no longer used to sleeping on a bed, I could not rest until I got on the hard floor. Then he told me he had sent up a boy to blacken my boots, who had scared them all by telling them that the man up stairs had fallen off of the bed and lay dead on the floor. I took my ablution, and went down to breakfast, all enjoying that I was still able to do justice to the meal that my kind host and hostess set before me. After many thanks and good byes to Mr. and Mrs. Rothschild and the family, Mr. Rothschild and myself went down to the train, which was in waiting. Everything was soon ready and we departed for Mobile, Ala. At Greenville, Ala., I met General W. H. T. Walker for the first time. Martin's battery was assigned to his brigade. Captain Martin was promoted to Major, and Chief of Staff of General Walker's brigade, and Lieutenant Evan P. Howell, by right of seniority, took his place as Captain. From Mobile, we went to Jackson, Miss., one section of two cannons were left behind under charge of Lieutenant Robson. The balance arrived at destination at about three o'clock P. M., May 12th, 1863. We unloaded the pieces at once, and all the accoutrements, all the horses and harnessed them up without the loss of any time, took up the line of march towards Raymond Springs. The weather was very warm and the road of red clay was very dusty for men marching in columns. The dust would rise like clouds of ashes at every step. It must be remembered that it was ration day, but we had no time to draw any. As we advanced, we met General Gists' Brigade just out of a fight with General Grant's forces, who landed at Port Gibson, on his forward move to Vicksburg. General Gist had several prisoners. Among them was a Captain. I spoke to him and asked him about the strength of Grant's army. Of course, I did not expect a truthful answer. He replied, "If you'll keep on in the direction you are going, you will meet him. He is not so very far, ahead of you, and when you do meet him, you will think he has more than enough to eat you all up." Well, he did tell the truth, and it has been our misfortune all through the war to fight against many odds. We kept advancing, when of a sudden the command was ordered to halt. We formed ourselves into battery, and I was placed in charge of a detachment. General Walker ordered me to follow him. About two hundred yards ahead the road took a sudden turn around the bluff, which commanded a straight stretch of about a mile. General Walker ordered me to unlimber my gun and place it in position, so as to command that road, and ordered me to fire into any cavalry that might appear. At the further end of my view was a water mill. I remarked, "General, had I not better let them advance somewhat, so as not to waste too much ammunition?" "You must use your own judgment," said he. Looking about me, I saw no infantry in close proximity, so I ventured to ask him where my support was. He answered, "Support Hell!—If they charge you, fight them with the hand spikes, don't you never leave this post," and left.

Mr. James F. Brooks acted as my No. 1. I asked him if he had made his will, if not, he had better, as we were there to stay. We watched with all our eyes, we saw no enemies. Just about dark, we were ordered to limber up, and double quick to the rear, for about a mile, the enemy having taken another route and we were in danger of being cut off. Weary and footsore, having marched about ten miles that afternoon, we retraced our steps within about three miles of Jackson, hungry and thirsty, we marched on, large oaks bordered the road at places and the roots protruded above the surface of the ground; having on a pair of shoes, left foot number six for a number 8 foot, while my right shoe was a number 10 brogan, I crammed cotton in shoe number 10 to prevent too much friction and cut off the end of number 6 to avoid the painful sensation of being cramped, but misfortunes never come single—the night became dark and it threatened to rain. I stumbled over one of those protruding roots and tore off half of my unprotected toe nail on my left foot, a most excruciating and painful sensation. I did not swear, because I was speechless. I mounted the caisson, our horses were jaded, had had no food nor water that day, but managed to get into camp. Dr. Stewart, our surgeon was left at Jackson, with a few of our command who were sick. W. J. Bell was our ambulance driver. He drove me to Dr. Stewart's camp to dress my wound that night. I was all O. K. next morning, when the ball opened after day break. Our pickets announced the enemy's advance. The skirmishes then came into play and kept the advance at some bay for some time, our forces placing themselves in position to receive them in due form. We were five thousand strong, while the enemy numbered twenty-five thousand. At about eleven A. M. orders came from our right to left to fall back, and we gradually withdrew, putting on our prolongs, and firing occasionally as we retraced our steps. When the fight first opened I was in the rear, as stated, on account of my foot, but after being dressed and hearing the firing, I made for the front, and reported to Captain Howell for duty, while he was in line of battle on the extreme left. He said his detachment was complete, to report to the next. Having only four pieces of artillery in action, two under charge of Lieutenant Robson not having yet arrived, they were placed along the front about two hundred yards apart, all had full working force. I retraced my steps and so reported to the Captain, saying, "Well, Captain, there being no use for me here, I shall go to the rear to protect myself and watch the progress of the fight, should there be any casualties in the Company I'll take their place—no use for me to be here unless I can be of some service." Up to that time the skirmish line was still contending for every inch of the ground. Captain Howell says to me, "You stay here, and act as my orderly. I'm hoarse anyhow, and you have a good voice and can repeat my orders and commands," so I was installed by the side of the Captain. The ground on which we stood was a gradual incline, while that of the enemy was about on a level with us, leaving a sort of a basin or valley between both lines. It was a novel sight to see our skirmishers contending every inch of the ground before an overwhelming force, to see them load and fire, and gradually falling back, facing the advancing foe. When suddenly they emerged from the woods, where they were concealed, and advanced in platoon form, sending their deadly missiles into our thin skirmishers ranks. I said, "This is more than our men can stand, let me throw a shell over their heads, into their ranks." He answered, "Do so, but don't shoot our men." "No danger," said I. I depressed the bridge of my piece, raising the muzzle about four fingers. No. four pulled the laniard. It had a good effect, and resulted in stopping their advance, and thus enabled our skirmishers to come in. My fire also gave them our position and distance. They at once formed a battery in front of us. I aimed a second shot at a white horse. Captain Howell watching its effect. I being behind the gun, the smoke prevented me from so doing, when he said, "You got him." I soon found out that I had done some damage and that my range was accurate, for they centered their fire of several pieces against my own. One of their shots passed over my gun and knocked off its sight, passed between the detachment, striking the caisson lid in the rear and staving it in, and thus preventing us for a few minutes in replying. We had to break it open with the hand spikes to get ammunition. They undoubtedly thought that we were irreparably silenced, and paid their respects to some other part of our line, but we resumed business again, and they came back at us. I saw a ball rolling on the ground, about six feet to my right. It seemed to be about the same caliber as ours. It rolled up a stump, bouncing about fifteen feet in the air. I thought it was a solid shot and wanting to send it back to them through the muzzle of our gun, I ran after it. It proved to be a shell, as it exploded, and a piece of it struck my arm. It was a painful wound, but not serious. Another ball struck a tree about eight inches in diameter, knocked out a chip, which struck my face and caused me to see the seven stars in plain day light and very near got a scalp of Captain Howell, who stood behind that tree. Orders came for Captain Howell to fall back. He asked me to inform Major Martin, who was in command of the piece at the extreme right, that he was falling back. I had to traverse the whole front of our line. I took the color bearers' horse, a fine animal. We named him Stonewall. The enemy's fire was rather high, as they came up the incline and the balls rattled through the tree tops like hail. It commenced raining very hard. I dismounted and took it afoot. On my way passing the third section, Sim Bland, who acted as number 6, and whose duty it was to carry the ammunition from the caisson and to hand it to No. 2 who inserts it in the muzzle of the gun, while No. 1 rammed it home. As I crossed him at a trot, I remarked, "Sim, this is hot time." Before he could reply, a solid cannon ball had struck him. Poor fellow, he did not know what hit him, for he was dead. His whole left side entirely torn to pieces.

 

The enemy was now advancing more rapidly, as our whole line had given away. On my return I found my horse also shot down. I was trying to save the body of Bland, but couldn't get the assistance needed. I went through his pockets and took what he had therein and gave it to his brother, Lieutenant Bland. The enemy pushed me so close I had to take to the woods in my immediate rear, the trees of which somewhat protected me from the enemy's fire. About a hundred yards further I found Sergeant Newsome with his gun and a detachment, trying to make for the public road leading to Jackson. He had managed so far to drive his command evading the trees of the forest, when suddenly he was confronted by a plank fence which stood perfectly erect, not a plank missing and about five feet high. He ordered the horses cut out of the harness, and was about to abandon his guns, when I hollered, "No Sergeant, don't do it! Ride through between the posts, they are wide enough apart, knock down the planks." I put myself in action and kicked against the planks, when the whole panel fell over, carrying several others with it, for all the posts were completely rotten at the ground, and thus I saved this piece of artillery and probably the men. We reached the road and marched in column. It was raining hard and every man was soaked to the skin. The column halted, having fallen back about a half a mile, firing as they went, when again we formed in line of battle. I was very tired, and sat down by the road side. When called again into action, I found that I could not use my arm, and that the leaders of my leg had contracted at my groins. The enemy had again outflanked us, and the men lifted me on a caisson.

The horses stalled. The road being very muddy, the men had to assist at the wheel to pull the carriages out of the mud, by using all their efforts, so I had to get down, for I felt that after all the gun would have to be abandoned, and I did not care to be taken prisoner, but General Joseph E. Johnston made a stand a little further on, until the Yankees outflanked him again. Major Martin happened to be just passing me on his horse. I begged him to take me behind him, as I could not walk. He answered, "It is impossible, we are going to make another stand. Get in the ambulance." When the ambulance came in sight, it was full to overflow with wounded and dying. The Major again rode up. I said "Major Martin, can't you get me out of my difficulty," he replied, "Hermann, do the best you can to take care of yourself. If they capture you, I will have you exchanged as soon as possible." Poor consolation, I thought, but I was determined not to be taken if I possibly could help it, so I started towards Jackson, taking the edge of the woods, first on account of the mud, then as somewhat of a protection from the bullets. My locomotion was slow, from eight to ten inches was the longest strides I was able to make, and this with excruciating pains. Presently our forces rushed past me and formed again into line of battle, thus leaving me between both lines, the bullets coming from either direction, when again I entered our line. This maneuvre happened three times before I reached Jackson, in a stretch of three miles. It was then four o'clock p. m.