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 a deadly embrace, in which our foes proved themselves an enemy not to be despised. After the battle we took up the line of march, and soon we reached the vicinity of Tree Hill, where we went into camp—the army of Mc-Clellan having retired behind the gun boats, which ever and anon reminded us of their close proximity by sending forth as a greeting, what appeared to be a keg of nails, but which in reality was a large conical-shaped shell which meant death to all things with which it should come in contact. Here, again, began that intolerable drill, guard duty, policing camp, &c., and here too, commenced for the first time the punishment of the men, confinement in the guard-house, &c., and this, too, just because the boys would ‘run the blockade’ and steal into Richmond. Here it was also, that the famous
was formed, which afterwards played so conspicuous a part in the deadly and unequal struggle, and whose young commandant was to achieve almost immortal fame—whose bravery, coolness and self-possession under the most trying ordeals were such that commanded the love of his subordinates and the respect and admiration of the whole army—noble Willie Pegram! To live through all those hard-fought battles and then at the last—at Five Forks—surrender his young life upon the field of battle for his country. The following companies composed the battalion: The Purcell, Captain McGraw; the Crenshaw, Captain W. G. Crenshaw; the Fredericksburg, Captain Carter Braxton; the Letcher, Captain Greenlee Davidson, and the South Carolina battery, Captain McIntosh, with W. Gordon McCabe, as adjutant. After remaining in camp some two weeks or more, during which time the troops of Stonewall Jackson had embarked on the train for Gordonsville, we received marching orders, and took up the line of march to join the forces then gathering near Orange Courthouse, where we arrived in time to witness the fight of Cedar Mountain, in which the troops of General Pope were defeated, and where we remained until we commenced that remarkable flank movement in which that famous old braggart, the celebrated General Pope, ‘who had never seen anything but the backs of the rebels,’ was now to feel the iron hand of old Stonewall. The day after this battle, or rather the morning after, for it was
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