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“  men.” Calling for his horse, he rode out from camp, and was soon seen coming back driving a herd of fine beeves, amid the enthusiastic shouts of the soldiers: “Colonel Hill is the Commissary for us.” On the night of the 18th of June, Colonel Hill sent two companies of the Thirteenth Virginia and two of the Third Tennessee to surprise the Federal garrison and destroy the bridge at New Creek, on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. The expedition was a success, 250 of the enemy were put to flight, and when the detachment returned with two pieces of captured artillery and several stand of colors, each man was a hero in the eyes of his comrades as well as his own, and the rest of us felt deep chagrin that we had not belonged to the chosen band. It being settled that McClellan would not advance by that route, we were marched back to the neighborhood of Winchester. Colonel Elzey, of the First Maryland regiment, was now put in command of our brigade, which was made to consist of the Thirteenth Virginia, Third Tennessee, Tenth Virginia, and First Maryland, and we had a season of constant drilling, heavy guard duty, and rigid discipline. On the 21st of July, Colonel Jackson had a sharp skirmish at Falling Waters with the advance of General Patterson's army, in which, with 300 of the Fifth Virginia regiment, and one piece of artillery (commanded by Captain Rev. Dr. Pendleton), he kept back, for some time, two brigades of the enemy, and retired when about to be flanked, bringing off forty-five prisoners and inflicting other loss, with a loss on his part of only two killed and six or eight wounded. General Johnston at once advanced his whole army to Darkesville, six miles from Martinsburg, where we found Jackson awaiting us, and where, for four days, we remained in line of battle, and, with a force of not quite 9,000, threw down the guage to General Patterson, with his upwards of 20,000. I mingled freely among the men here, having old college mates in nearly every command, and I never saw men more anxious to fight — being eager to be led to attack the enemy at Martinsburg when it seemed settled he would not attack us. It was while we were at Darkesville that I first came in personal contact with the afterwards world-renowned “Stonewall” Jackson, who was then a modest Brigadier-General of two days standing. A col-porteur (a friend of mine) had sent me word that he desired permission to enter our lines to distribute Bibles and tracts. With the freedom with which in our army the humblest private could approach the highest officer I at once went to General Jackson for the permit. I have a vivid recollection of how he impressed me. Dressed in a simple Virginia uniform, apparently about thirty-seven years old, six feet
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