At this juncture Longstreet came forward with a plan—­bold in its conception; still bolder in its execution, had it been adopted—­that might have changed the face, if not the fate, of the Confederacy.  It was to strip all the forts and garrisons in South Carolina and Georgia, form an army of twenty-five thousand men, place them under Beauregard at Charleston, board the train for Greenville, S.C.; then by the overland route through the mountain passes of North Carolina, and by way of Aberdeen, Va.; then to make his way for Kentucky; Longstreet to follow in Beauregard’s wake or between him and the Federal Army, and by a shorter line, join Beauregard at some convenient point in Kentucky; Johnston to flank Sherman and march by way of Middle Tennessee, the whole to avoid battle until a grand junction was formed by all the armies, somewhere near the Ohio River; then along the Louisville Railroad, the sole route of transportation of supplies for the Federal Army, fight a great battle, and, if victorious, penetrate into Ohio, thereby withdrawing Sherman from his intended “march to the sea,” relieving Lee by weakening Grant, as that General would be forced to succor the armies forming to meet Beauregard.

This, to an observer at this late hour, seems to have been the only practical plan by which the downfall of the Confederacy could have been averted.  However, the President and his cabinet decided to continue the old tactics of dodging from place to place, meeting the hard, stubborn blows of the enemy, only waiting the time, when the South, by mere attrition, would wear itself out.

About the 10th of April, 1864, we were ordered to strike tents and prepare to move on Bristol, from thence to be transported to Virginia.  All felt as if we were returning to our old home, to the brothers we had left after the bloody Gettysburg campaign, to fight our way back by way of Chickamauga and East Tennessee.  We stopped for several days at Charlottesville, and here had the pleasure of visiting the home of the great Jefferson.  From thence, down to near Gordonsville.

The 29th of April, 1864, was a gala day for the troops of Longstreet’s Corps, at camp near Gordonsville.  They were to be reviewed and inspected by their old and beloved commander, General R.E.  Lee.  Everything possible that could add to our looks and appearances was done to make an acceptable display before our commander in chief.  Guns were burnished and rubbed up, cartridge boxes and belts polished, and the brass buttons and buckles made to look as bright as new.  Our clothes were patched and brushed up, so far as was in our power, boots and shoes greased, the tattered and torn old hats were given here and there “a lick and a promise,” and on the whole I must say we presented not a bad-looking body of soldiers.  Out a mile or two was a very large old field, of perhaps one hundred acres or more, in which we formed in double columns.  The artillery stationed on the flank fired thirteen guns, the salute