been on the poor horses and mules that had fasted for days and now drawing great trains, with roads almost bottomless?  It was with a mingled feeling of delight and relief that the soldiers reached the Virginia side of the river—­but not a murmur or harsh word for our beloved commander—­all felt that he had done what was best for our country, and it was more in sorrow and sympathy that we beheld his bowed head and grief-stricken face as he rode at times past the moving troops.

General Pettigrew had the post of rear guard.  He, with his brave troops, beat back the charge after charge of Kirkpatrick’s Cavalry as they attempted to destroy our rear forces.  It was a trying time to the retreating soldiers, who had passed over the river to hear their comrades fighting, single-handed and alone, for our safety and their very existence, without any hope of aid or succor.  They knew they were left to be lost, and could have easily laid down their arms and surrendered, thus saving their lives; but this would have endangered Lee’s army, so they fought and died like men.  The roar of their howitzers and the rattle of their musketry were like the blasts of the horn of Roland when calling Charlemagne to his aid along the mountain pass of Roncesvalles, but, unlike the latter, we could not answer our comrades’ call, and had only to leave them alone to “die in their glory.”  The brave Pettigrew fell while heading his troops in a charge to beat back some of the furious onslaughts of the enemy.  The others were taken prisoners, with the exception of a few who made their escape by plunging in the stream and swimming across.

At first our march was by easy stages, but when Lee discovered the enemy’s design of occupying the mountain passes along the Blue Ridge to our left, no time was lost.  We hastened along through Martinsburg and Winchester, across the Shenandoah to Chester Gap, on the Blue Ridge.  We camped at night on the top of the mountain.

Here an amusing, as well as ludicrous, scene was enacted, but not so amusing to the participants however.  Orders had been given when on the eve of our entrance into Maryland, that “no private property of whatever description should be molested.”  As the fields in places were enclosed by rail fences, it was strictly against orders to disturb any of the fences.  This order had been religiously obeyed all the while, until this night on the top of the Blue Ridge.  A shambling, tumble-down rail fence was near the camp of the Third South Carolina, not around any field, however, but apparently to prevent stock from passing on the western side of the mountain.  At night while the troops lay in the open air, without any protection whatever, only what the scrawny trees afforded, a light rain came up.  Some of the men ran to get a few rails to make a hurried bivouac, while others who had gotten somewhat damp by the rain took a few to build a fire.  As the regiment was formed in line next morning, ready for the march, Adjutant