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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 23. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 1.3 (search)
ler's hands. This same faithful horse, like Tam O'Shanter's Meg, good as ever lifted leg, was killed at Campbell's Mill, on the Juniper creek, in Chesterfied county, when his rider, and a private soldier belonging to the Phillips' Legion, named McDaniel, being possessed with more pluck than judgment, charged fourteen Yankees in the Campbell house. Well do I remember how poor Mrs. Campbell looked when she ran out of the house and said: My gracious alives, men, if you don't stop that shooten somebody is gwine to get hurt. I soon discovered that she was right; my horse was shot and so was I, but the poor horse had strength enough to take me to the swamp, where McDaniel and I held a council of war and decided to separate at once. Poor fellow, I hope he is doing well; I have not heard of him since. I wandered about in the woods, dodging blue coats until dark, when I met an old citizen who gave me his hat and said: Here is a good negro who will conduct you through the woods to Society