omewhat rapidly,
but in an orderly and skilful manner. I do not remember that we marched
in darkness but once, and then we trudged all night long through
shoe-deep mud. At times when the men in front encountered an unusually
bad place those who were behind were compelled to come to a temporary
halt. If I did not sleep while walking along I came as near to it as
weary mortal ever did, and I am sure that I dozed while standing still.

General Johnston posted his army between Richmond and the Chickahominy
river, the 47th regiment being on the left, not far from Meadow bridge,
and in the pestilential low-grounds of that sluggish stream. Swarms of
mosquitoes attacked us at night and with their hypodermic proboscides
injected poisonous malaria in our veins, to avoid which the sleeping
soldier covered his head with a blanket. The complexion of the men
became sallow, and every day numbers of them were put on the sick-list
by the surgeons.

The 47th regiment, commanded by Col. Robert M. Mayo, and having brigade
connection with some regiments from North Carolina, had its first
experience of real war in the battle of Seven Pines (or Fair Oaks),
which was fought on the 31st of May. On that day General Johnston
attacked the left wing of the Federal army, which had been thrown
across to the southern side of the Chickahominy. To some persons the
declaration may seem surprising, but it was with real pleasure that I
went into the battle. It was the novelty of it, I suppose, that
prevented me from being frightened by exploding shells and rattling
musketry. The dread of these things came afterward when I saw fields
scattered over with the wounded, the dying, and the dead, and among them
some of my dearest friends. In that affair our Lieutenant-Colonel, John
M. Lyell, was seriously wounded, and the regiment sustained a loss of
about fifty men. Our chaplain, Mr. Meredith, of Stafford county, went
into action with us, but while he did not do the like again, it is no
impeachment of his courage. His duty lay in other directions; and it
ought to be recorded in his praise that after every battle he might be
found doing all he could to relieve and comfort the wounded.

CHAPTER IV

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness, and humility;
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
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