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 We then hitched up and moved out on a by-road in the woods, where we camped. Next morning, Sunday, April 9th, we hi ched up ready to move when Colonel McGraw, who by sheer force of character and almost unequalled bravery had now risen to the exalted position of commander of this invincible battalion, in company with General R. Lindsay Walker, went to General Lee's headquarters to see what was to be done, leaving the battalion in charge of Captain Thomas Ellett, who ordered it to move out in the road. After several pieces had gained the road word came to repark the guns and await further orders. After waiting a short time an order came to spike and cut down the guns, destroy the limber chests, wagons and all other property possible, and for the officers and men to scatter, taking to the woods, and endeavor to make their way to General Joseph E. Johnston, in North Carolina. This order was carried out with a great deal of sorrow, many of the officers and men crying like children. The scenes connected with the surrender at Appomattox Courthouse have gone down to history and are there recorded, and the Private now, as he closes up a very imperfect work, calls up before him in all its pristine glory the Crenshaw Battery, as with proud step it made its way to Camp Lee in the spring of ‘62, there to be instructed in the art of war, the guns then bright and shining, as were also the new uniforms, with full ranks and the proud flag of Dixie waving untattered over as happy a set as ever knew joy, and unknown entirely to the sufferings incident to war. But it is a dream. The sun has set forever upon the cause for which we contended, and the cannon which once boomed out so sullenly, which had to the cannoneer a music—peculiar though it may be—is hushed forever, and the once happy, familiar faces, then jubilant and gay, which, indeed, made the soldier's life, to some extent at least, lose some of its bitterness, are gone, and the private is to listen no more to rollcall, as the sergeant would step out and commence what was once a long roll, but which has now become only a meagre one, death in all its forms known to the soldier having claimed a large number. Hush! I can now hear the order, ‘Commence firing!’ The loud huzzas are yet ringing in my head. I see again the troops all in battle array! I hear the well-known voice of the incomparable Lieutenant James Ellett, and the mellow and pleasant voice of Hollis, as the boys are now sending forth the messengers of death, and I hear our gallant Captain Thomas Ellett, as he cheers the boys on to victory in his modest and gentlemanly
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